04/15/2021
Sniffsniff
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Everything has an end, only the sausage has two
As luck would have it, a small sample from the house of Lalique rolled towards me when I opened today's fragrance envelope. Rêve d'Infini. Ouch. If the noun is indeed the omen, then nothing less than the dream of the infinite should manifest itself on my nasal mucosa as soon as I release the fragrance from its capsule. What I think of such lofty naming concepts, I have already worked through in detail elsewhere. Therefore here only fragmentarily: Who pokers high, can fall deep.
And so it is then unfortunately also. It has dreamed itself out. And the awakening is quite nasty. If infinity smells like Lalique's Aurelia-Eleonore of the fragrance world on my forearm, then I wish for a quick end. As short and painless as possible.
It's not really my style to review fragrances I don't like. And actually I always leave myself some time to let at least a tender familiarity flourish from the first acquaintance. But today I feel so olfactorically hit with a lathammer that I need to channel my trauma into writing therapy.
I smell artificial watery melon gum. Calone? By the bucketful! Plus lots and lots of musk of the nastiest kind. Penny musk. Cheap and synthetic. And this nasty duo is flanked by nondescript fruit and floral notes and a brain-busting sweetness reminiscent of a Natreen bottle cracked on the kitchen tiles. I can't remember having had a similarly unappealing scent under my nose since testing the horrid glamfume fuzz in the black bottle.
Rêve d'Infini just presents itself as flat, artificial, and incredibly cheap. This is already very reminiscent of the weaker representatives of the drugstore segment. And then it is aggravated by the fact that he triggers a very sensitive point with me: everything about this fragrance seems put on, fake, posed. Spasmodically good-humored. Always nice and fresh and neat. We're in a good mood today. We're beaming with the sun. Up to both ears. This summery lightness. Suuupi. Bye. More plastic fruit? Oh, yeah, great, I love plastic fruit. It makes us feel so carefree ...
So, I need to find a sink now to get rid of the smell. Dark clouds of headache are gathering over my temples. And on the subject of eternity is also said everything
And so it is then unfortunately also. It has dreamed itself out. And the awakening is quite nasty. If infinity smells like Lalique's Aurelia-Eleonore of the fragrance world on my forearm, then I wish for a quick end. As short and painless as possible.
It's not really my style to review fragrances I don't like. And actually I always leave myself some time to let at least a tender familiarity flourish from the first acquaintance. But today I feel so olfactorically hit with a lathammer that I need to channel my trauma into writing therapy.
I smell artificial watery melon gum. Calone? By the bucketful! Plus lots and lots of musk of the nastiest kind. Penny musk. Cheap and synthetic. And this nasty duo is flanked by nondescript fruit and floral notes and a brain-busting sweetness reminiscent of a Natreen bottle cracked on the kitchen tiles. I can't remember having had a similarly unappealing scent under my nose since testing the horrid glamfume fuzz in the black bottle.
Rêve d'Infini just presents itself as flat, artificial, and incredibly cheap. This is already very reminiscent of the weaker representatives of the drugstore segment. And then it is aggravated by the fact that he triggers a very sensitive point with me: everything about this fragrance seems put on, fake, posed. Spasmodically good-humored. Always nice and fresh and neat. We're in a good mood today. We're beaming with the sun. Up to both ears. This summery lightness. Suuupi. Bye. More plastic fruit? Oh, yeah, great, I love plastic fruit. It makes us feel so carefree ...
So, I need to find a sink now to get rid of the smell. Dark clouds of headache are gathering over my temples. And on the subject of eternity is also said everything
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